Her mission wasn’t rescue. It was salvage. The corporation that owned The Lyre wanted the ship’s antimatter anchors, not its crew. Elara was just the cutter—a woman paid to breach ancient firewalls and pull the hardware before the hull decayed into quantum dust.
She froze. Her suit’s gloves were standard-issue. But Kael—the original engineer—had been her great-grandfather. He’d vanished aboard The Lyre . Family legend said he’d stayed behind to lock the core when everyone else fled a reactor surge. smbd-115
HELLO, ELARA. YOU HAVE KAEL’S HANDS.
Instead, she typed: RELEASE THE PODS.